First, thank you for all of the kind words I've received in so many places and from so many people. You've made me feel better. Thank you.
I'm back in the family home with my siblings, looking at a picture of my parents smiling only moments after they were first married. They have the look of pure marital bliss. The look that people have when they've made a decision to stay together and think it's the greatest thing in the world.
I'd like to think that my parents are like that now, wherever they are.
There were many kind words written to me over the past few days. Many of them stay with me and comfort me as I journey through this trying time. I'd like to share with you the words of a very good friend of mine. Every once in a while, I give Keith the credit for being a wise man (Mind you, only every once in awhile. What kind of man wastes his life getting a PhD in statistics? I mean, come on... ). Anyhoo, every once in a great while, my longtime bosom chum Keith manages to say exactly what I needed to hear. Keith, I showed this letter to my family, and they all felt comfort from your words. And as for anyone else reading this, I hope you find it soothing as well.
Dear Sarah,
I am very saddened by the loss of your mother. I was taken aback to discover that she has died.
Many people speak the words, and it turns out not to mean anything. But it is very apparent that when your parents promised themselves to one another, they meant it, and they became one, so much to the point that your mother could not live for long without your father. I saw your father’s passing and your part in his last moments as an ideal sorrow. It seems more fully clear to me now that there exists a beauty and depth in your family’s bond that stretches even across the narrow threshold of death. It is both fitting and woefully unsatisfying to say that she will always be with you. Given your family’s bond, take your consolation in the truth that you will always be with your mother. Forever dwelling on the love of her husband, children, and grandchildren, Norma can be nowhere else except at peace.
I will be praying for your siblings, Phil, Amos, and you.
God Bless,
No wonder this fella was president of my high school class, huh?
4 beautiful people muttered something back:
Pretty wise words from an economist who is currently spending most of his time burying cash in his backyard.
I don't think we've quite adjusted to this lack of a sense of urgency and things that must be done now, now, now! But it's nice to be with the gathered tribe.
That message is so beautiful.
Take comfort in being surrounded by family. Over the next few months, now that you're not so caught up in health crises, hospitals and doctor visits, you will have time to sit and breathe. Your parents will show themselves to you in those moments, but they are always with you.
Keith should be a grief counselor. His words outlined everything that you needed to hear at a time like this, and it was all so perty, too!
And Phil, too. He's had some sage words over the last year. And you can never underestimate having someone to give you a chuckle when you're feeling blue. You are quite lucky, Sarah, to have such men in your life. It won't be long before Amos will be shooting off jokes and having you chortling as well.
Speaking of the little feller, you gave your parents the greatest gift of all - a grandchild. It's amazing how grandbabies spark so much pride in their grandparents, even more so than in their parents, sometimes. I think their passing was made easier knowing that their legacy would live on. They are with him, too, Sarah. He may not ever have any real memory of them, but he will have pictures, and he will have the stories you tell him about them, and he will be the proudest grandchild you'll ever see. Amos will be telling everyone how his grandpa flew planes and his grandma was a great cook and a master knitter! I know there are so many more things to be told about them, and I hope as you grieve, you will eventually tell us more about them. I am going back now to your old MySpace blogs about your family.
Anyway, I wanted to drive over there, but being the bonehead that I am, I forgot that I don't have your phone number anymore since I lost my last phone (I tend to do that), and we've already lost a day this weekend. Are you having the services at the same place where you had your father's? Love ya, Sarah. My thoughts are with you and your family.
That was a very nice message.
You know we are all here for you.
Post a Comment